


Hidden Feelings and Secret Dreams

by yellow_backpack



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Peterick, Peterick Fluff, tw: Mentions of Suicide, tw: mentions of depression, tw: mentions of self-harm, very cliche
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 20:19:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15469236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellow_backpack/pseuds/yellow_backpack
Summary: Read to find out ;) haha





	Hidden Feelings and Secret Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SORRY IT'S REALLY CLICHE AND I'M SURE YOU'VE SEEN A MILLION LIKE THIS BEFORE BUT IT'S MY FIRST ONE  
> Please tell me what you think in the comments, or suggestions for future ones!

It was one in the morning, and Pete was awake.  
Not that this hadn’t happened before, because Lord knows it had, but this time, it was different. This time, Pete was scared.  
The nightmares were getting worse.  
Usually, they were about Patrick—him getting mad at Pete, yelling, telling him he’s a failure, storming out the door. Or sometimes, in the dream, Pete would get depressed, hurt himself somehow, and end up hurting Patrick in the process. Sometimes, he’d kill Patrick, and he’d sit there on the bathroom floor, his dream self not realizing that it wasn’t real, and sob his eyes out.  
And then he’d wake up. He would be a bit rattled, but he’d gotten so used to them that he could just shake them off, no problem.  
But tonight, it was worse. That’s the only way he could describe it. Pete was getting worse, and he needed help, fast. But tonight, he’d settle for Patrick—the real one. The one that he knew, in the depths of his soul, would always care for him and love him, no matter what, and would never leave and always be there for him.  
Pete sighed and rolled out of bed, the dark blue comforter falling to the floor. Pete didn’t bother picking it up. All he wanted right now was to fall asleep in the arms of the only person he’d ever loved.  
He shuffled down the carpeted hallway, his socks shocking his feet a little bit from the friction. Reaching the end of the hallway, he opened the door to Patrick’s room just enough for him to slip inside. He tiptoed to the left side of Patrick’s bed, the side he always slept on, and crouched down so he was eye level with Patrick. Pete paused for a minute and smiled. Patrick always looked like an angel when he slept, even if he didn’t think so. Remembering his original mission, he shook Patrick’s shoulder ever so gently, so as not to scare him.  
“Patrick? Hey, Patrick,” Pete whispered into his ear. Patrick murmured in his sleep, and Pete realized that he probably wasn't going to wake up. He persisted, but Patrick still didn’t wake up. He was a heavy sleeper, and Pete didn’t want to make him mad by trying again. Guess I’m gonna have to deal with this on my own, Pete thought, even though he knew good and well that he couldn’t and that he was going to have another worse nightmare. He slowly stood up and tiptoed back to the door, prepared to go back to his own bed. He had almost gotten to the door when he heard a faint “Pete?” from the other side of the room. Pete’s face lit up and he turned around to find Patrick sitting up in bed with his legs crossed and his hands rubbing his tired eyes. “You alright, babe?”  
Pete considered telling him the truth for a minute, but quickly decided against it. “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m fine.” He turned back around to keep Patrick from seeing the tears welling up in his eyes.  
“No, you’re not,” Patrick insisted, his voice soft yet stern. He was more awake now, and Pete knew that he couldn’t get out of it this time. “I can hear it in your voice. Something’s wrong and I want to help.”  
Pete looked at his socked feet. “If I tell you what happened, I’m going to start crying. You know I hate it when I cry in front of you.”  
“You have no reason to be embarrassed, if that’s what you’re worried about. Please come sit next to me. I want help you.” Patrick tapped the space next to him.  
Pete thought about that for a minute. What did he ever do to deserve such an amazing person in his life? He had no idea, but he must’ve done something right.  
“Alright,” Pete replied, giving in. Patrick smiled genuinely and scooted over on his white bedspread so that Pete would have room to sit.  
After getting situated in the bed, not even bothering to turn on the light, Patrick took Pete’s hands in his, looked him in his deep brown eyes with his own sweet, loving blues, and said three simple words: “Tell me everything.” And Pete had no choice but to comply.  
“It was a nightmare, ‘Trick, a really bad nightmare and I know I’ve said this before and I know I’ve told you about them before but this was the worst one yet and I don’t know how to handle it and I don’t know how to tell you because it was so bad—” At this point, Pete was rambling, and there were tears streaming down his face, and his body shook with sobs.  
Patrick reached up pale fingers to wipe the tears away from Pete’s eyes. “Babe, you know you can stop at any time, right? If it was so bad you can’t even say it.”  
Pete nodded and leaned into him, crying harder, feeling Patrick’s strong arms wrap around him and Patrick’s head resting on top of his. Pete curled his fingers into Patrick’s shirt and turned his head into his shoulder, staining his shirt with tears. Patrick rubbed small circles into Pete’s back with one of his hands, the other holding him tightly around the middle, knowing that that was what he needed right now.  
Pete stayed where he was and composed himself a little, taking a deep breath. “No, Patrick, you deserve an explanation.”  
Patrick nodded his head. “Okay. Go ahead, Pete.”  
Pete took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to tell his boyfriend, knowing how scary it was. “So... I have these nightmares, right? And sometimes they’re bad, but tonight, it was worse. Way worse. And, um… alright. Here goes.  
“Usually, it starts with me being all sad and stuff. Which I can usually handle, not a problem. But tonight… the problem wasn’t me. It was you. And it wasn’t like you were messed up like me at all. You just… weren’t you.  
“It started with me waking up in my bed. There was nothing in my room, and it smelled like hospital in there. I tried to move, but then I realized that I was tied up. And gagged. In my own bed. And I was confused and scared and tired, really tired, Patrick, like the life had literally been sucked out of me. And then I noticed that my shirt was off and I was bleeding from really deep cuts, the kind that sting in the shower. I was getting dizzy, kinda drifting in and out of consciousness, and then you walked in. And you had this crazy look on your face. Murderous. Angry. Kind of like when Banner is about to transform into the Hulk, you know? That woke me up real fast. You… you walked in, and I was tied there, and I wasn’t really able to move. You walked to the side of my bed, in a funky way, which scared me really bad. It was weird for you to walk like that.  
“You picked something up from the side of the bed that I hadn’t noticed before. It was one of those really big butcher’s knives, the kind that you use to cut up cows with.” Pete paused and started sniffling again, glancing at Patrick. Patrick’s eyes were wide and there was fear in them, but he quickly shook it off and moved closer to Pete (if that was possible), trying to be the strong one in this situation. Running his fingers through Pete’s jet-black hair, he whispered tenderly, “You can stop now if you want.”  
Pete just shook his head again. “I was… scared. I mean, who wouldn’t be scared if they saw the love of their life standing over them like they were a pig to be butchered? But anyways, you leaned down and you said something to me.”  
“What was it?”  
Pete took a deep breath, screwing his eyes shut. “You… you said that you were tired of me. You didn’t want me anymore. That I made it so hard for—for you to just live and that you were tired of supporting me and that you were going to leave. You said that you knew that I was too much of a coward to kill myself already and that that was why I was tied up, because you were just going to do it for me, ‘put me out of my misery’ or whatever. And then, you ungagged me, and—and…” Pete’s voice trailed off, and his body was racked with sobs again.  
Patrick didn’t need to ask to understand what had happened next. He didn’t even want Pete to say it, lest he fall down another rabbit hole. All he did was pull Pete into a bone-crushing hug, whispering “I love you” and “Please, don’t cry” and “Ssssshhhh, it’s alright, I’m here” while Pete emptied his tears into Patrick’s already-stained shirt. Patrick continued to soothe Pete with his voice until Pete had calmed down enough that Patrick could talk to him. Patrick pulled away and took hold of Pete’s shoulder with his left hand, lifting Pete’s chin with his right. He started to talk.  
“Pete, I am so sorry that this happened to you. You don’t deserve this. Nobody deserves this. I promise you, I don’t know why that image of me was in your subconscious, but what I can promise is that I will never be tired of you. Ever. I will always want you, for eternity and always, and under no circumstances will your situation, whatever it may be, ever make me think of leaving.” Patrick was starting to tear up with the sincerity of his words. “I don’t want to leave you, Pete. I don’t want you to leave me. I don’t think I’m strong enough to handle that. You and I both know I can handle a lot of things, but that? That would shatter me. That would break me into a million pieces.” Patrick’s voice was barely a whisper at this point. He was looking down, not wanting Pete to see him like this, tears starting to flow from his eyes. He sniffed and waited for Pete’s response.  
Pete sat there, in the dark, silent tears streaming down his face as well. When he was finally able to get them to slow down, he put his hand on Patrick’s, absentmindedly stroking the back of it with his thumb. Pete looked down to hide his blushing face, even though it was dark and he knew Patrick couldn’t see him. “I don’t deserve you,” was all he said.  
Patrick snorted. “Really? If anything, I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.”  
Pete frowned, looking up. “What in the world does that mean? I’m a mess. I’m depressed. I have nightmares. I wake you up in the middle of the night to tell you things you probably don’t even care about. I love other people more than I love myself. There’s no way—”  
Patrick rose like a wave and caught Pete’s lips in his own, kissing him slowly. Pete just leaned in to the kiss, cupping his hand against Patrick’s cheek and tilting his head to get closer. Patrick ran his tongue against Pete’s bottom lip slowly, asking for permission, and Pete granted it immediately. Their tongues danced around each other’s. Patrick was warm, and he tasted sweet, like chocolate. This wasn’t a desperate, gasping and biting, gonna-take-the-breath-out-of-you kiss. This was slow, it was sweet, it was loving.  
When they broke for air, Patrick hugged Pete close, putting Pete’s head on his chest. Pete didn’t argue. He wanted to lay there forever.  
“You asked me what I meant,” Patrick said, looking down at Pete. Pete’s eyes stayed trained on the sheets, just wanting to listen for a while. “I meant that you’re perfect to me. That’s how I see you. Always have. Always will. I don’t care what the world sees; I will always see the stars in your eyes and the sunset in your smile. I’m the ship, you’re the anchor. There’s no way that anyone else will ever mean more to me than you do. You’re a gift that was given to me of all people for some reason, and I’m so thankful for you. You lead me. You guide me. You will always be the brightest light in the room, the one thing I can always find even if I’m just groping my way through the dark. You are perfect and you are mine, and that’s all that matters.”  
Pete looked up at Patrick in awe, eyes round and mouth open. When he spoke, it was barely a whisper. “You… you really think that?” Patrick just smiled, looking right into Pete’s eyes.  
“Without a doubt.”  
Pete attacked the smaller boy with tiny kisses, peppering them all over his face. Patrick giggled, pushing him away and then kissing him for real this time. Pete pulled away first. “Can I sleep in here tonight?” he asked.  
Patrick laughed. “Like you ever sleep anywhere else anyways.”  
Pete crawled to the right side of the bed and curled up at Patrick’s side. Patrick put his arm around him, and Pete snuggled closer. Pete closed his eyes, already half-asleep. “I love you,” he mumbled.  
Patrick closed his eyes and smiled. “I love you more.”  
“Not a chance.”


End file.
